


Fields Of Ruin

by Celebbun



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, I'm Sorry, Mairon is so bitter good god, Sorry again, Written as a gift for Tolkien Secret Santa, and it's a a though task, anyway I should have written more, but my spirit is trying to drag my body through this writer's block, he genuinely doesn't want anything aside from dying at this point, it's so short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celebbun/pseuds/Celebbun
Summary: In a field of rotting corpses, Mairon thinks. 
Written as a gift for Tolkien Secret Santa on tumblr. Merry Christmas!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rockersocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockersocks/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Rocker! I'm so sorry I couldn't have written more, if I could drag myself through this damn writer's block I'd write something so much better for you. I hope you enjoy!

A breath. A heartbeat. Was that all it took to take away everything a broken soul had?

If it was or not, it did not matter. It was all gone anyway. The bright and fair armies of the oh so righteous Valar had taken it all. They came marching over the hills, blinding all with their light, killing all that stood in their way. And the ground was bathed in black blood in their wake. 

Mairon questioned himself now, standing in the middle of what had been a battlefield mere hours before, looking at the hundreds of thousands of corpses that nigh completely covered the ground in a macabre display of mindless slaughter. Were they truly so righteous and just, if they were capable of killing so many without feeling any tinge of remorse? Was that not a course of action fit of 'the dark ones' as they claimed?

It was, he decided as his knees gave in to his weight and he fell on the ground. His eyes were turned to the sky, but he saw nothing. Anor's unveiled light blinded him and he could do nothing but endure it, for even when he had his eyes closed, the sun's red glow burned through his eyelids.  

In the back of his mind, he could hear the echo of Melkor's voice ordering him to flee, to seek safety, save himself and leave him behind, for the Valar to get. What had he thought himself as at that moment? A bait, so that he, a Maia, could be safe? What kind of madness had taken over him?

The doubt plagued him and he could not bring himself to push it away, to free himself from it. 

His eyes fluttered shut and a sigh bled from his lips. He felt pain flaring from a few points in his body and groaned. It seemed that not even him had escaped unscathed from the fight, as much as he tried to keep away from it. 

Mairon could not find it in himself the will to rise to his feet and continue on living, carrying Melkor's legacy on his shoulders as a tragic reminder of their late grandeur. It was all gone, what good would it do to rise from the ashes as a broken being seeking a goal that would never be achievable anyway?

With bitter thoughts, he let darkness take over him, and any who looked at the Maia, lying down on a field of corpses, would not be able to differentiate him from the others.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it was terrible, but intention is what matters, right? (jk gifts are meant to be good and I didn't get even close to that) 
> 
> Anyways, reviews are welcome and Merry Christmas yet again!


End file.
